Funny
by Sunset on Heartache
Summary: "It's funny how hello/is always accompanied with goodbye. It's funny how good memories/always seem to make you cry." Remus Lupin recounts all of the not-funny things in life, as per Heather Noble's "Funny." One-shot. T because of things.


**A/N: a oneshot I've been working on for a few months. The bolded words are from the poem "Funny" by Heather Noble.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Funny" or Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p><strong>It's funny how hello...<strong>

Remus Lupin shifted from one foot to another, a thick, worn novel cradled loosely against his chest. There was a hot, red train in front of him – a train that he'd never thought he'd see. He was really going. His wolf wasn't going to stop him – nothing was. But if anybody ever found out...and what if he hurt somebody?...

He shook his head and scurried onto the train, waving to his mother bravely. He tried to hide the fear from his face, and his mother tried to hide her tears – tears of happiness, for she'd never thought her only child would ever go to Hogwarts.

It took him half an hour to find a compartment that he was "allowed" to sit in – Merlin knew why kids were such jerks. The train had already been shooting along for quite some time. Remus hesitantly knocked on the door to compartment 32B, and then slid it open to peer inside, as the shades were shut.

There was one boy who was sleeping, and he was small and a little pudgy, with thin blonde hair. The other two boys were conversing and laughing loudly – both had tan skin and dark hair, though they looked less alike than a dog and a cat.

The taller of the two had longer, flatter hair. He also had two ice blue eyes and wore a crooked half-grin, which showed off a pearly white canine on one side. He already had broad shoulders, and when he looked up, it was with confidence and good humor.

The shorter of the two had messier hair and glasses, lighter skin, and hazel eyes. He was thinner, but still looked like he could take Remus down with one hand behind his back (or maybe Remus just wasn't as confident as the two of them). This boy's smile, too, was good-natured, but it was almost perfectly symmetrical.

"I'm Remus Lupin. Can I sit here?" Remus mumbled, blush coming onto his face.

"Hey, mate. I'm Sirius Black. This is my new best mate, James Potter. And you had better sit here, really, it gets boring with only two people!"

**...is always accompanied with goodbye.**

"...be survived by their young son, Harry James Potter. Would anyone like to say a few words?"

Remus sniffled pathetically, wiping tears away from his eyes. Though he was ten years older, it felt like his friendship with the Marauders had been in the blink of an eye. He was the only one left. James, dead. Peter, dead. Sirius – the bastard – in Azkaban. Black had taken everything from him in just a few hours. His whole life, gone – all of the reasons he told himself to keep on getting up, that the sun would shine another day... all of them were useless now.

He stood, head held high, shoulders squared, and walked toward the front of the service. The man at the front – Remus didn't have a title for him, this man, who did weddings and funerals, birthday parties and births – nodded solemnly and stepped down from the podium.

Remus took a deep, steady breath, telling himself that tears were useless. They didn't heal nor numb, help nor hurt. They were simply _there._ Useless.

"I-I met James Potter on the first day of September, 1971. We were both to be First Years, and I hadn't anywhere to sit. I found them – James Potter and Black – in their compartment and they allowed me to sit with them.

"Through the years the three of us – and Peter Pettigrew – were best friends. We were brothers, I'd say – not in blood but something just as strong. I...I honestly didn't believe that Sirius- that Black could do something like this. But he did, because now I'm left, alone, the last of the four of us. But this isn't about me. This is about James."

He breathed deeply again.

"James David Potter, on the outside, was a handsome, arrogant boy with his head screwed on crooked and a knack for annoying people. But he was _more _than that. He loved Lily Evans Potter from the moment he saw her the first time. He knew when he needed to be serious. If you were hurting, he was there for you. James was the best friend any man could have ever asked for. He would square his shoulders and march into battle for you if he could.

"I hate that he died, but he died the way he always said he would – straight-backed and fighting for his family. For his Lily-Flower and his little boy. And even though Harry won't get the chance to meet his wonderful father, I know that he'll always love James."

Turning his head away, ashamed at the tears flowing down his cheeks, Remus stepped down. When nobody else stepped forward, the burial began. The coffins were lowered, and dirt thunked heavily down on them as people took their leave. Remus' shoulders heaved. He wanted to pull James back out. He wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead.

Remus was being irrational. Because endings are always harder than beginnings.**  
>It's funny how good memories..<strong>

_A yellowed piece of parchment, laying innocently on the closest table to the fireplace. There was a slightly torn edge where Sirius Black had jammed it into his bag, and a stain where Peter Pettigrew had dropped some food on it. But, though four boys stood over it in hushed awe, none of them were looking at either of the imperfections. _

_They were seeing beyond: eyes roaming the blank parchment as if reading invisible ink, waiting and wondering if their project was finally, finally finished. One by one, they looked up and caught each others' eyes._

"_Together now." was whispered, though now Remus can't remember who it was that first said those words._

_Four hands: one large and tan; one smaller and calloused; a third one even smaller that was accustomed to working with small things; and then a last one, smooth and pale and even smaller; lined up on each of the four sides of the parchment. With a baited breath, four shaky voices could be heard in unison, whispering words that would be said a thousand times afterward._

"_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."_

_The parchment unfolded itself, words spiraling themselves across the front:_

Mssrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, purveyors of aids to magical mischief makers, are proud to present:

THE MARAUDER'S MAP.

_Underneath it even more black ink spiraled out, tiny dots and words and letters unfolding and dashing across the page, as if choreographed. Tiny statues that, if one were to look, you could find in the exact same places in the bigger scale of Hogwarts. There were several tunnels leading away from the main map, as if they were secret passages..._

**...always seem to make you cry.**

Remus was awake now. He'd never get back to sleep after such a vivid dream – no, such a vivid memory. How young they'd been, then. They'd thought themselves immortal, untouchable. They were the kings and they'd never be hurt.

How untrue that was.

Hot tears worked their way down Remus' temples. Remus stared stubbornly up at the ceiling, unwilling to acknowledge them until finally he wiped them away angrily.

This shouldn't get to him so much.

That part of him was gone forever. Never would it come back, just as Peter and James would never walk beside him again, never tell the First Years that he was on his Time of the Month. Never talk about his furry little problem. Never would Moony have Prongs and Wormtail to keep him company again. Never would Prongs and Wormtail keep Moony out of trouble.

It was all over.

And even though he knew it, Remus refused to accept it. He probably never could accept it, never, even after years and years. That had been a big part of his life, and he was _never going to forget._

But he was too afraid to remember. To see those happy, innocent boys smiling at him from his memories, keeping him awake at night, haunting his waking hours.

Never.**  
>It's funny how forever...<strong>

"Merlin! OWLs last _forever_, Moony!" whined James Potter, pouting sullenly in the shade of the willow beside the lake. "It's never going to end!"

"Yes it will, Prongs," sighed Sirius solemnly.

"Yeah, and you'll be sorry it didn't last longer," Remus pointed out. "I can see you now, complaining about how fast everything went."

"Will not!" James cried stubbornly.

"Too," Peter Pettigrew giggled.

"Not."

"Too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Are you two children, or what?"

"Or what!" They both shouted indignantly, and the four of them fell into spiels of laughter just as the bell rang.

**...never really seems to last.**

"Sometimes I feel as if everything just...flew by," James whispered to Remus as they sat on the windowsill, staring out at the moon. "Like we never really even got to...stand and look at things while they were _normal_, you know?"

Remus nodded, feeling very tearful, though not one tear had fallen as of yet.

Sirius appeared and joined them, and the three of them sat in companionable silence. Sirius finally broke it.

"We leave this place tomorrow. I-I've been thinking...about how much...we've all changed, you know, in seven years. Why does change hurt so much, Moony?"

Remus looked up at him and frowned. "Everyone says change is a good thing."

Sirius flailed his arms and sniffled pathetically, burying his face in his knees. "I hate change! How can something that hurts so much be a good thing? How-how can something that makes me cry be a good thing? Moony? Please.."

They'd all changed, Remus realized. For better, for worse. They'd grown older and wiser and, really, wasn't that what growing up was all about? They'd found themselves here at Hogwarts. Hogwarts must have seen a million students come and go in her time, but somehow, Remus felt like they were the first to leave an impact in her walls...**  
>It's funny how much you'd lose,<strong>

Water dripped down the walls of the basement they were hiding in. The Death Eaters wouldn't find them here, he knew it, but it was the last place he ever wanted to be. But he couldn't risk it. Nymphadora clutched at his bicep, body shaking, and he realized he was too. Above them their house was being torn apart, but the Death Eaters wouldn't find them – material possessions could be replaced. They were safe. Scared, but safe.

The basement was practically destroyed, because this was where Remus spent his nights as a werewolf. That's how he knew it was safe for his new family. There was the best silencers and reinforcements that magic could make – if an angry werewolf couldn't destroy the walls and get out, nobody could destroy the walls and get in.

He'd already lost too much.

Nymphadora's arm clutched his tighter and a tiny moan escaped her lips. Remus looked at her, shocked.

"What? What is it?"

"Remus... I think – I think –"

But she didn't have to say it, because her water broke at that exact moment, and Remus was even more glad they were safe.

She and the baby were his everything now, and he'd lost his everything before. He would _never _do that again.

**if you forgot about your past.**

As the Death Eaters raided his house above them, and Nymphadora went into labor, Remus was lost in thoughts of how this could have been worse. His friends had been in hiding, once. They'd been under the Fidelius, with a baby, and they'd been found, too. They'd been killed, but their baby still lived on.

Remus would make sure that he never forgot that nobody was invincible.

Nymphadora screamed, and if the Death Eaters heard her, their footsteps never stopped.

Nobody is invincible.

"I don't know what to do!" Remus yelled, and then Nymphadora yelled, and then the Death Eaters upstairs yelled.

Nobody is invincible.

The house above them was quiet.

He didn't forget.

He didn't let them get hurt.

His family did not repeat history.

The head breached.

He yelled again.**  
>It's funny how "friends,"<strong>

"Merry Christmas, Moony!" screamed Sirius, bounding across the room in four quick steps. He plopped a kiss on Remus' lips, pulled back, and burst into laughter.

"Ugh, you stupid mutt," Remus complained good-naturedly, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. There was mistletoe over his head, so it was really Remus' fault in the first place.

"No kissing in front of my son!" James wailed, covering baby Harry's eyes. "He doesn't even get to see Lily and I kiss until he's thirteen!" he said, seriously. Then, "When's Wormtail going to be here?"

"He's not coming," Sirius responded lazily, stretching out on the couch. "His mum wants him home for Christmas."

They're quiet, all three of them, while this registers. Their fourth friend was always at his mother's lately, whether it was a holiday or just a night when James wanted to go out for drinks, or days where Sirius gathered them all up in the Potter's house to play poker, or anything really. It was as if the fourth boy was avoiding them.

An awkward silence filled the room until Lily called, "Dinner's ready!"

**can just leave when you're down.**

Remus rolled to one side, whimpering slightly. He was in pain from his last attempts at bringing the werewolves around to their side – something Dumbledore said would help in the long run. There was someone at the door, but he couldn't make himself get up until he heard Dumbledore's voice.

He called for the man to come in, his voice dull. He'd been depressed as of late, because now he'd not seen any of his friends in months. They were all at odds, everyone thinking that someone else was the traitor and nobody knowing enough to place the blame on the right person. Sirius thought it was Remus, Remus thought it was Sirius, James thought it was Peter, and Peter couldn't care less. So, even though Halloween had always been the _Marauder's _night, none of them were together.

It was probably for the best, really. _One _of them was the traitor, and who knew what would happen if the traitor decided to hurt them while they were all together?

Dumbledore slid into the house, looking worse-for-wear. Remus blinked curiously.

"Something has happened, Remus," Dumbledore whispered gravely.

Remus' heartbeat picked up. The last time this was said, his girlfriend had been murdered.

"Who?"

The one word was filled with so much pain it was almost unbearable.

"Lily and James. And Peter."

"N-no. _No,_" Remus growled. "No, that's not possible, they were – they're safe – you're lying!"

Because that meant that Sirius was the traitor. Lily..and James...and Peter. And that left Remus all alone, even though he'd been right the whole time.**  
>It's funny how when you need someone,<strong>

Remus closed his eyes tightly, the last spasms from his transformation from wolf to human shaking through his body. He was in so much pain that it didn't even hurt him to think about what it would be like had Sirius not been a traitor.

_Two warm hands rubbed his back and a cold snout was pressed against his cheek. There was something warm curled up on the small of his back, and the warmth spread through his body like he'd been submerged in hot water. It felt so good, the comfort that only his friends could provide him._

And Remus needed that comfort right now.

**they never are around.**

But he remembered, as he always did, that he would never have that comfort again. Never. Because Sirius had taken that from him – Sirius had taken everything from him, his happiness and his family. And what more was there, really?**  
>It's funny how people change,<strong>

"I can't," Peter said, a little hesitantly. "Sorry. My- um, my m-mum wants me home for Christmas."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Doesn't your mum hate Christmas?"

"Well..." Peter drew out, cheeks flaring red. "I guess she's making an effort, maybe?"

"I guess," Remus shrugged. At least three of the Marauders would be together.

**and think they're so much better.**

"_Wormtail,_" Remus and Sirius hissed together, both looking older than the last time they'd seen each other. There was a portly, middle-aged man in front of them and three terrified teenagers on the outskirts of the room.

"I knew – I knew you were alive," Sirius growled. "You took away – t-took away twelve years of my life. You took away my b-b-best friends! You took away _everything. _And now you're going to pay for it!"

Wormtail shivered and whimpered, and it was clear to Remus that the man thought it was worth whatever punishment was coming his way. Because, for a short time, the man had been powerful – and that was something that Peter Pettigrew had ached to feel for as long as Remus could remember.**  
>It's funny how many lies...<strong>

"I can't believe you lied to us," James frowned. "We wouldn't have cared, you know."

Thirteen-year-old Remus wrapped his arms around his knees, shrugging. "I'm just so used to everyone – to everyone hating me for it, you know? So I thought...maybe if I lied, I could have friends ...for a little while, at least."

Sirius scowled. "Liars never make friends."

Remus looked up, hurt. "What would _you _have done? If you knew that people would hate you, and try to hurt you, for being a monster that you never asked to be?"

"You're not a monster."

Remus met Sirius' eyes and held them for a long, long time.

"And you'll always have us, Remus. Always."

His head turned and he stared at James, unable to comprehend that someone would want to be his friend.

"Always," Sirius and Peter chorused.

_Always. _Remus thought with a snort. _I knew it couldn't last. _

**are packed in one "love letter."**

_Your hair is the color of water-soaked sand_

_And nothing's quite as soft as your wonderful hands_

_I'd love to look into your eyes_

_Which, by the way, are like a sunrise_

_I'd hug you and hold you tight every day_

_Except for the fact that neither of us is gay._

Remus looked over the top of the exuberant, bright-red heart on which the poem was written to see the fifteen-year-old on the other side. He bit his lip to contain his laughter and exclaimed solemnly, "Too bad neither of us is, you know."

"Too bad, too bad," Sirius agreed. "We'd make a lovely couple, don't you think?"

Remus rolled the heart up into a tube and whacked Sirius on the head with it. "Like a sunrise? Really?" he asked, exasperated. "Sometimes I can't believe I'm your friend."

"But you looovveee me, Moony," Sirius whined, following after Remus quickly.

"I guess that must be it," Remus rolled his eyes.**  
>It's funny how one night...<strong>

A young Remus turned, running. He knew he shouldn't have come outside, but he hadn't realized why until he looked up at the moon. It was full, bright and white, but beautiful. And sinister, because Remus knew why he was scared. There were werewolves around these parts, and the full moon meant werewolves would be out to play.

He was almost inside the house again when the beast caught up to him. He was huge and gray, and Remus fancied that his eyes were rather hungry.

The first bite was on his ankle. Following that, one on his hip and then his neck. He screamed, because every child knows that screaming will capture their parents' attention. Sure enough, he could hear a clattering of feet coming down the stairs, and a red curse flew over his head at the wolf. "_Crucio!_" and then "_Avada Kedavra!_"

But the wolf was gone. Remus only had time to realize that he was no longer being bitten, scratched, bruised – and then he blacked out.

**can contain so much regret.**

"I can't come in tonight," Remus told his employer.

"Why not?" demanded the man. "You've missed plenty of days, Lupin!"

"I-I'm sorry sir. It-it wouldn't be right for me to come in."

"What? Will you turn into a werewolf and eat the customers?" the man asked sarcastically.

Remus would regret doing it. But he did it anyways: "Yes, actually."

"W-what?"

"I'm a werewolf, sir."

The line went dead, and this was the start of Remus' long-winded unemployment.**  
>It's funny how you can forgive,<strong>

"_But then...," Remus murmured, staring at Sirius Black intently. "...why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" – he could feel his eyes widen, and he looked beyond Sirius as if the wall held all the answers. "–unless _he _was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?"_

_Sirius, very slowly and without looking away from Remus' gaze, nodded. Realization, guilt, and extreme happiness floated through Remus all at once. _

"_Proffessor," Harry's voice chimed, but Remus could barely hear it. "what's going on –?"_

_But Remus lowered his wand, shock exploding in his belly, and seized Sirius' hand. He pulled the man up, and the kneazle on his belly fell onto the floor. Then, as if making up for all the lost time, Remus pulled Sirius into the tightest hug he could manage._

**but you never can forget.**

Remus tossed and turned, in the throes of a nightmare. He pictured himself there, standing at the grave of his best friend and the man's wife. The snow was piling on top of the shiny stone, but he wiped it off irritably, putting a heating charm on the headstone so that the snow could not accumulate again.

He pictured Azkaban, with dark shapes flying around it, dementors swinging through and stealing all the happy from their prisoners. He saw Sirius, laying in a heap in the corner of his cell, dry-sobbing because the tears had run out years ago.

And he realized that things like this would never be erased from his mind.**  
>It's funny how ironic...<strong>

They were running across the lawn, darting, some because they knew this was important – Sirius because he knew that, when they reached the castle, he'd be free – Remus because he'd forgotten something, something he knew was important, something that could change everything.

Then he froze.

A shiver wracked up his spine, and horror clouded his vision.

_The moon._

Sirius was yelling at him, trying to pull him back into himself – but it didn't work, it never worked – oh gods – Remus exploded, pain sifting through every bone in his body, every nerve –

_This isn't fair. We were so close._

And he tried to convey that message, but by the time it was through his vocal cords, it was merely a loud, long howl.

**life turns out to be.**

"_Nooo!_"

Remus' scream turned into something of a howl at the end as he watched Nymphadora spin, up into the air, and then fall to the floor, unmoving. His gaze turned from his young wife to the woman who murdered her, and he snarled as he shot a spell towards Bellatrix Lestrange.

"_You. Will. Not. Get. Away!_" Remus shouted, each word becoming a spell from his wand. She'd taken from him, more than any one person had taken from him since Peter Pettigrew. Sirius, and now Nymphadora – his last friend and his wife – she would pay. She had to. He'd make sure of it.

His curse, his Crucio, fell onto her, and she shrieked and spasmed on the floor. He twisted his wand, drawing out the spell, until something hit him.

Remus Lupin was encased in the greenest of green lights, the deadliest of deadly curses.

And then his world went black.**  
>But the funniest part of all is none of it's funny to me.<strong>


End file.
